


Life Is Like A Boat

by MooseKababs



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Injury, Kissing, Language Barrier, M/M, Merformers, Pining, Pipes is Oblivious, law breaking, vaguely dystopian politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-03 16:48:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14573295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseKababs/pseuds/MooseKababs
Summary: Pipes' life is suddenly turned upside-down when a hurricane blows an injured mer into his home. He doesn't think twice about helping the creature, but with merfolk declared illegal in Iacon, he finds himself on the wrong side of the law with one act of goodwill. Worse yet, he quickly becomes attached to the big mer who takes up residence in his living-room fishtank, despite his best efforts not to.





	1. Chapter 1

Something had compelled Pipes to look out his patio doors that morning, and he wasn’t sure  _ what.  _ It had been raining for days-- coming down in sheets as the tail end of the hurricane spent all of its energy pounding Ultrix with gale-force winds and torrential downpours. He had lost interest in watching the howling chaos of the weather fairly quickly, but had woken this morning with a strange compulsion to  _ observe. _

His home was not as close to the shore as it could have been-- instead, it sat squarely on the bend of a tiny river, a few miles up from the coast of the ocean. When the storm had begun, the river had filled with all manner of debris; from tires, to garbage, to the shattered remains of a less fortunate person’s home. All of it had packed tightly between the steep banks of the river, caked together with copious amounts of mud and fallen plant matter. The water that occasionally became  visible as the blockage was pushed out to the open water was a murky greyish-brown and always in motion.

The rain was finally calming, it seemed, the winds buffeting Pipes’ home less and less as the hours passed. He surveilled the scene outside with disinterest, trying to parse the drive he'd had for looking out onto the disaster so early in the morning as he sipped at his coffee. Whatever the cause, he could put no name to it, and the lack of reason quietly vexed him.

His answer-- or at least what he took to  _ be _ an answer-- came in the form of a ripple.

The mess in the river was disturbed from the sedate pace it was dislodging itself at by an odd motion, as if someone had thrown something large into the brackish water below. Pipes squinted through the water that rolled down his doors, trying to better see the muck-- but by the time he had managed to focus on the river, the motion had passed. It had been a very unnatural movement, strange and out of place enough to grab his attention. 

He only became more frustrated the longer he went without figuring out a cause-- he was an engineer! He should be able to figure it out!-- and his preoccupation nearly made him miss the second strange undulation. A third quickly followed, and immediately afterward, a splash arched upward from a small clearing of water.

A deep sense of foreboding filled Pipes as he watched, his mug of coffee forgotten in his hand. He reached forward and pulled the sliding glass door open, mindless of the water, and leaned forward as if it would help him see. His eyes fluttered desperately across the clutter as it seemed to still once more

Then suddenly, something muddy thrust upward from under the water, and Pipes very nearly dismissed it as a branch until it moved, bending in half and smacking at the surface of the water. 

He felt suddenly sick as the realization dawned on him; someone was under the water.

He was halfway across the yard before he'd realised he had moved. Water squished into his slippers, and the closer he got to the actual banks of the river, the farther up his legs the water climbed. He sloshed down what was left of the steep incline, then faltered. There was almost nothing to use to help the poor sod drowning within arms reach of him.

The arm was about a car length away from him, and this close Pipes could see scratches and bruises dotting what little skin wasn't completely caked in mud. He moved back and forth on the remains of the bank with a flagging sense of hope before hesitantly bracing a foot on a nearby slat of plywood-- likely something used to board up a window. It sank slightly as he put some weight onto it, but didn't go far. He faltered slightly, but then leaned more of his weight onto the board. It sunk just a touch more, as the brunt of his weight went from the littoral to the impromptu stepping stone. 

As soon as both feet were on the plywood, Pipes dropped to his knees and scooted closer to the arm, which had gone lax. Slowly but surely, as he dawdled, it had begun to sink back into the goopy mass of mud. Pipes stretched, bracing one hand on a piece of lumber stuck down deep into the soil at the bottom of the river bed. The other reached out further, until his fingers flirted with the rapidly sinking stranger’s-- not quite close enough to reach.

Pipes swallowed, steeled himself and pushed forward, abandoning the pole of lumber he'd been holding on to in favor of closing the gap between him and his macabre prize. One arm pushed down into the squishy, silty mud up to the elbow, but then seemed to find purchase, and the other continued forward to wrap around the stranger’s wrist. When he’d gotten a good grip, he pulled backwards, and with a lot less resistance than he was expecting, the arm came up with him-- but not much further than the shoulder.

He moved, pulling the stranger until he could pin their hand under his knees, then stretched forward once more and began to dig at the goopy mud covering them. It was just thick enough to keep its shape as he dug, instead of immediately filling whatever holes he created.

When he’d managed to free the other’s shoulder, neck, and one side of their head, he grabbed the wrist he had been sitting on, gathered himself to his feet, and  _ pulled. _ With a wet, suctioning noise, the other began to rise from the muck. Once both shoulder were out, there was a lot less work involved in extracting the imperiled stranger; Pipes shifted his hold to grab the unconscious person under their arms. He braced himself, shifting one foot from the plywood to the sturdier plank. 

The new position gave him more leverage, and he heaved the stranger up by their armpits. They came up with little struggle, which was curious, and with his quarry in hand Pipes stumbled back onto the big flat board he’d started out on. 

He have a cursory glance over the stranger, and stopped cold. There was a distinct lack of…  _ legs  _ attached to them. Instead, there was a thick, scaled tail, framed by a number of long, fins, all made slick by the mud. Whatever anxiety that freeing the stranger had banished returned full-force.

He hadn’t saved a human-- he’d saved a  _ mer. _

For a moment he was too shocked to do anything, but then he steeled himself. The thing was still a living creature in need of help, and Pipes was determined to  _ supply  _ that help. With no more hesitation, he stooped and gathered the mer into his arms, then skipped off the makeshift raft onto the riverbank. They’d drifted a few feet down the swollen waterway from where they’d started, but it was still within the bounds of Pipes’ property. He made his way up the steep, slippery embankment into his backyard, pausing only once to readjust his grip on the mer before moving into his house, taking care to step over the shattered coffee mug in the doorway. 

He leaned down and deposited his burden on the tile of his kitchen floor, and then was struck by the depth of the problem: he had  _ no idea  _ how to care for a Merfolk. Anxiety rose in him, but he quashed it ruthlessly. He knew how to care for fish, and he knew how to care for humans. Bridging the two couldn't be that hard, right?

He fell into motion quickly; with a pitcher of water, he cleared away the majority of the mud that he could see. What ctenoid scales decorated the sides of the mer’s tail were pitted and dull, and the long patches of placoid scales on the front of its tail were broken up by long scratches and gouges that bled lazily.

More alarmingly, one of it's lateral gills was wedged open by a stick, which had entered the vent traumatically enough to leave it bleeding as well. The rest of the gills flared weakly in an attempt to pull in water, and the mer’s mouth had fallen open to allow it to pant croaking lungfuls of air instinctually.

Pipes quailed for only a moment before bracing himself and leaning forward to try and free the stick from the assumedly sensitive area. He curled his fingers under the lowest vent shelf and pulled gently upward, his other hand wrapped around the shaft of the stick, tugging carefully. The obstruction came free gradually, bringing with it a wash of mud and black, brackish water. 

He leaned back, dropping the stick, and let out a relieved breath as he observed the mer more closely. Judging by the presence of the placoid scales, he could only guess the creature was a saltwater Mer washed inland by the unforgiving storm. It could probably survive out of water in emergencies, but thankfully that wouldn't be necessary-- the saltwater aquarium Pipes kept in his living room was big enough for him to crawl into, so the mer would probably fit, too-- not  _ well _ , but enough that it would be able to breath unhindered. 

The engineer moved off, leaving the mer where it lay long enough to scoot the big rocks and branches his aquarium was decorated with over to one end. When he was finished, he gathered the larger creature into his arms and waddled across his home, pausing now and again to catch his breath and readjust his grip. With no small amount of effort, he hefted the mer-- which seemed so much larger and heavier now that adrenaline wasn't helping Pipes along-- and deposited it into the big tank with as much care as the awkward angle could allow him. 

Water flowed up and over the edges of the tank, soaking the carpet, the wall behind the tank, and Pipes’ whole front. The aquarium’s contents quickly became muddy as the Mer began to breath easier, its respiration falling solely to its gills once more. Pipes watched as the water was stirred around by its heaving exhales, then up at the strange way it was sprawled. He moved closer, posing the supine creature so that one arm laid on either side of the tank, its head cushioned by the rim of the short side. He puzzled over the arrangement for a moment longer before turning and disappearing deeper into his home. He came back with a wet towel, which he wedged beneath the thing’s head to cushion it as much as he could.

When he was done, he stood back, put his hands on his hips, and  _ looked.  _

The Mer was distinctly beautiful, if a little worse for wear; its scales were a desaturated, dull blue, and the skin of the top half was a very light pinkish-white. There was a blue crest on its forehead-- a rather impressive one-- centered between two sets of smaller ridges, and distantly Pipes wondered how he’d missed it while he was pulling the creature out of the mud. For that matter, how had he missed the webbing between it's fingers?

Pipes only wasted a moment or two puzzling it over before ultimately deciding that it didn't matter. He had hopefully saved the mer’s life. That was what counted.

There were  _ problems _ with that, though; Interacting with Mers was  _ illegal _ , and harboring them was punishable with almost ten years in prison. The Iaconinan Government had painted them as a dangerous, invasive species that demolished industries, harmed families without remorse, spread disease and destroyed any ecosystem they came in contact with. If there was something bad that the government could blame on merfolk, they did. While it was without question that a mer could be  _ dangerous _ , there was little evidence to support any of the claims that Iacon officials had made. Unfounded or no, there were state- backed merhunts yearly, and fishers were often paid for whatever dead mers were brought to certified locations. The  _ rumor _ was that many senators found mer meat to be a delicacy, and often served various dishes made out of the creatures at their lofty gatherings. 

Other states abhorred the practice, and mers were fully legal in almost every other waterfront nation on Cybertron. Praxus spearheaded research into the species, and more than one result of those studies had proven mers to be fully sentient  _ people, _ not mindless animals.  There were activist groups all over the planet that vied for merfolk to be given rights in Iacon, but their protests fell on deaf ears-- in fact, the legislation surrounding mers had only seemed to tighten in recent years, as pressure from other states mounted. 

Pipes didn’t know what to think-- he’d been born in Stanix, a landlocked state, and had only moved from his hometown of Pescus Hex to pursue more lucrative work as an engineer in Iacon a scant handful of years ago. He’d never  _ seen  _ a mer in person until now, and he had a healthy skepticism of all governing bodies, especially when they advocated for veritable violence against living creatures. He didn’t know if he completely believed the claims that they were intelligent, but he knew for a fact he didn’t trust the idea that they were mindless killing machines.

He was  _ stuck.  _ He couldn’t bear the thought that he’d call someone to have the mer carted away to it’s death, especially when he’d nearly put his own life on the line to save it-- but he didn’t like the idea of going to  _ prison  _ over an  _ animal _ .

With a sigh, he pushed the thoughts away. For  _ now,  _ the city was nearly empty. Nearly everyone had evacuated in prospect of the hurricane, and he knew for a  _ fact  _ none of his neighbors had come back. The risk of having been seen carrying a mer into his home was exceedingly slim, which meant,  _ for now, _ he had a moment to catch his breath. 

He turned from where he stood by the massive aquarium to survey his home. What had once been a clean-- if  _ lived in--  _ space was now a disaster area. Mud slicked the floor in the kitchen and was caked into the carpet of the living room, salt water pooled in a squishy puddle around the base of the tank, various accoutrements he had pulled from the tank were scattered across the floor, the back door stood open, and the shards of his mug still littered the floor near it. Looking down, he didn’t fare much better; his slippers were a lost cause, so full of silty muck and dirty river water that he didn’t even want to fathom trying to clean them. His pajama pants were soaked from where the aquarium had overflowed and drenched him when he’d deposited the mer, and around the bottoms of the legs wherever they weren't drenched they were caked in the same stinky mud that everything else was. 

Pipes sighed, moved to his couch, and sat heedless of the mess he was making. 

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be made to regret his impulsive decision any further before he could find a way to rid himself of the big blue creature.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, when Pipes awoke, he was puzzled to find the mer still unconscious. He was vaguely concerned; he didn’t have any real medical training, and had no idea how common it was for a human to sleep after a traumatic experience-- much less a  _ mer.  _ He watched it carefully from his perch on the couch. Every so often, one of the long fins that decorated it would flare, or it would wriggle until its position changed in the tank. 

Hopefully, that meant something good-- like the creature was regaining strength, and not subconsciously thrashing against its own demise. 

After a few moments of watching the creature twitch, Pipes stood and moved into the kitchen. The place was clean once more, or at least  _ close  _ to clean-- but he was now faced with an almost more pressing concern than the strange being sleeping in his living room.

He was nearly out of food. There was perhaps enough to make him until the next day, if he was alright with pretending half a bag of chips and a peanut butter sandwich was a passable dinner. Besides  _ food _ , he was out of a lot of other things as well. He’d been  _ meaning  _ to make his way further inland in search of an open store to buy supplies at yesterday, but his unexpected guest had blown that out of the water in more ways than one.

He would almost certainly need to go find food either today or tomorrow, he decided, but the prospect of leaving the mer alone in his home was a daunting one. His first instinct was to wait until the creature woke, and then-- _ somehow _ \-- try to explain to it that he needed to go out for supplies. That thought was quickly struck down by the realization that if a mer could speak anything, it probably  _ wasn’t  _ neocybex.

Which meant his best bet was to go out, restock his home, then return as  _ fast  _ as possible in hopes that when he got back, it would still be asleep. He didn’t  _ like  _ the idea, but even if he  _ could  _ communicate with the mer, there as no way he could be sure it would obey-- and taking it along with him to make sure it didn’t get into any trouble was out of the question entirely.

The longer he stalled thinking about all the options he wished he had, the less time he had to work with-- and that was the thought that compelled him to start getting dressed.

* * *

Pipes’ search had carried him into the next city inland; it had taken him nearly three hours to make what was ordinarily an hour’s trip, so bad was the damage to the roads and the general disarray of Ultrix. Thankfully, he didn’t come back empty handed-- the boot of his jeep was filled with groceries and necessities of all varieties, and some luxuries on top of that. Not once in his dealings had the mer strayed from his thoughts, and his scramble through the supermarket had been a harried thing, so intent was he in getting done and getting home to mitigate whatever damage his visitor might cause should it wake.

His fears proved to be both rational, and not.

As he opened the door joining his garage to his living room, he stopped dead. The mer was awake, sitting up and looking at him with a tilted head and a curious expression. Pipes swallowed down the sudden wash of icy fear that had threatened to capsize his rationality and stepped further into his home, setting down the bag of groceries he’d been holding on the table beside the door. 

There was nothing  _ immediately  _ awful about the condition of his home; it looked like some water had been flung about, and there was a gouge in the wall besides where the mer was sitting, but on first glance, nothing seemed…  _ too  _ out of place. 

The mer made a strange, low sound that Pipes couldn’t quite understand, and brought its hands up to its mouth to chew on something it was holding. The sound was strangely melodic, like someone singing, but also vaguely reminiscent of a cat trilling. He tilted his own head as he watched it gnaw on whatever it was it held. Had there been anything valuable within reach of the tank? He couldn’t remember.

“What have you got?” He asked it softly as he stepped further into the room, and it looked at him again from the corner of its yellow-gold eyes without stopping its noshing. 

By the time he had crossed half way through the living room, drawing closer to the mer, it had become bored with whatever it was chewing at, and tossed the strange whitish thing over its shoulder. It landed in front of the couch with a clatter, and Pipes forewent his own safety in favor of sating his curiosity. He took two quick steps forward and leaned over the back of the couch to peek at the floor.

The image didn't connect for a moment, but when it did, it was like hitting a brick wall.

Scattered in front of the sofa, the carpet was littered with little pointy bones. Pipes’ extended experience as pescetarian quickly lent itself to the understanding that they were _fish_ _bones._ There were no signs that the mer had actually gotten loose, and _besides,_ he'd cooked his last fillet last night. 

That could only mean  _ one thing. _ Pipes turned his gaze slowly to his aquarium and waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement through the remaining tangle of branches. A full minute passed before he moved around the edge of the couch and plopped down in the same place he'd woken that morning and scrubbed at his face.

The mer had eaten his pet fish.

_ Alright. _ Well, that was…  _ understandable _ . It hadn't eaten in at  _ least _ a day, and who knew how long it had been fighting for its life before Pipes rescued it. It was probably _ famished. _ _   
_ __   
He could… get new fish. It would be fine. 

Pipes drug his hands down his face, and looked up towards the mer, resigned. It was staring back at him, its arms crossed over the lip of the tank and its head pillowed on them, cocked to the side curiously as it watched his bereavement. Their gazes met, and it warbled a long series of melodious notes at him, leaning back to gesture at various things.

Pipes stood, casting a glance over to where he’d left the groceries, he slowly raised his arms and made a placating gesture.

“Alright, big guy,” He said in a voice that was soft and tinged with a strange desperation,“I have to do some chores. Just… wait here, alright?”

It tilted his head to the other side and chirred at him, looking him up and down curiously, but otherwise made no moves. Pipes took that as a good sign, and with no small amount of trepidation moved back into the garage to gather the rest of his half-thawed groceries. Unloading his Jeep and putting away his purchases was an exercise in bravery; the mer watched him with sharp, interested golden eyes every step of the way, occasionally making quiet sing-song noises to itself. Pipes knew the thing was most likely docile-- it had shown no animosity to him so far--  but he still felt an anxious chill whenever he would lock eyes with the creature.

Eventually, Pipes ran out of ways to stall, and was forced to once more approach the creature. He stopped just out of arm’s reach, leaning against the arm of the couch and looking on with no small amount of trepidation. The mer tilted its head, warbled, and waved at him, its fingers splayed out to show the webbing between them. Hesitantly, Pipes returned the gesture, and the creature smiled at him. The expression was so  _ human,  _ a friendly thing with just the slightest bit of pointed teeth showing behind curved lips, that it threw Pipes off.

“Can you… can you  _ talk? _ ” he asked the mer. The fin-like protrusions on the side of its head flared and settled, and it seemed to listen, before screwing up it's face in what Pipes assumed was concentration.

“ _ Hi cutie, _ ” it said haltingly, its voice heavily accented and strange while attempting something other than its melodious song-language. It looked down for a moment, gesturing and chirring to itself before looking back up sand saying, “ _ Want help?” _

Pipes was stunned, to say the least-- he hadn't expected an actual response-- and definitely not one like that.

“Um.” he said smartly. “Hi. I’m Pipes.”

The creatures headfins waved again, but then it shrugged, making a cacophony of gibberish notes at him-- probably what amounted to words in mer language. Pipes scratched at his neck, then waved his hands to get the mers attention again. It waved back at him and smiled sweetly, and for a second Pipes forgot what he was supposed to be doing. He gestured at himself after a moment of thought and spoke slowly and clearly.

“Pipes.” he said, his fingers splayed out over his chest. With the same hand, he gestured back at the creature, who was staring at him with an almost comical expression of concentration. After a best of silence, it mimicked his slow tone, singing a lilting, unknowable phrase and shaking its head.

Pipes repeated the gesture a second time, and then a third, all attempts garnering similar results. Frustrated, he took a step back, wondering how in the world anyone had learned  _ any _ language,  _ ever,  _ because this was ridiculously aggravating. He paced as he thought, back and forth in front of the tank, and the thing watched him from its perch with a look that crossed between humor and curiosity. 

On a return pass, Pipes caught sight of his tablet laying discarded on the couch, and scrambled to pick it up as an idea bloomed. A quick search later, he stepped closer to the mer and presented it with a picture of a fish. He pointed first at the tablet, then at the bones on the floor.

“ _ Fish. _ ” he said slowly. The creature squinted and mumbled something, and desperate, Pipes tried again. “ _ Fish _ .”

Miraculously, it seemed to click. The mer sat straight up and pointed at the bones, parroting him in its deep voice. “ _ Fish! _ ”

Pipes beamed, turning the tablet around, “Yeah, yes! Exactly!  _ Fish _ !”

After a long moment of working, Pipes turned the tablet back around. Several crude drawings were squeezed onto the screen by way of a notepad app, and he pointed to the first one and said, “Ocean.”

The mer repeated it back, and Pipes, overcome with excitement, grinned at him. It seemed to disdain the wait his reaction caused, because it pointed at the next image-- a doodle of a boat-- and sung out a few lilting notes. It continued to do this with three more images, each time waiting long enough for Pipes to try repeating the word, before grasping the tablet in one hand and doodling on it with the other. After a few moments, it let go and pointed. 

Pipes turned it around to look, and was surprised at the quality of the drawings. One was very clearly  supposed to be the mer itself, and it stretched to crane its neck enough to see the screen where Pipes held it to examine the drawings. The other was a drawing he could only assume was supposed to be himself. 

If it wasn't him, that meant he had a slightly better-looking doppelganger running around where the mer had seen it. 

It reached out and pointed at the doodle it had made of itself, and said, “ _ Riptide.” _

Pipes startled, but then pointed at the mer. “Riptide?”

The grin that blossomed over its face was a stunning thing, made of all teeth. Its golden eyes filled with its joy, and it nodded vigorously, slapping at its chest. “Riptide!”

Pipes gestured at the drawing of himself, “Pipes.”

“ _ Pipesh?”  _ it tried. He shook his head, repeating his name. It squinted in thought, then tried again. “Pipe?”

“Close,” he said, and then more slowly, “ _ Pipes. _ ”

“Pipe...s. Pipes?” it said, drawing out the end. Pipes nodded, and moved back to lean against the arm of the couch once more. 

The strangeness of the situation overcame him, and he had to laugh. The mer's grasp of language, its mannerisms and alertness all proved that the propaganda had been _ wrong. _ The creature was undeniably sentient, but beyond that it--  _ he _ \-- was sapient, responsive and intelligent as well.

The government’s unsubstantiated claims of mers having violent tendencies were now clearly false in Pipes’ mind, and the thought filled the engineer with a cold dread. What else had they lied about? 

Pipes could not shake the feeling that this meant the rumors of the high-castes eating merfolk had more truth to them than he may have once believed, and the thought made him feel sick. Riptide seemed to sense the sudden change in his demeanor, and let out a worried sounding trill. Pipes looked up at the mer, and gave an uneasy smile while he began to chirr gibberish at the engineer.

“I’m okay,” Pipes said, making a placating gesture. “Don't worry.”

Riptide watched him carefully, shrugged, and pointed at the tablet Pipes held, his tail swaying under the water. Pipes startled, but then stood and handed it back to the mer, who immediately set to work doodling something. The engineer took a moment to watch him, before sighing and stooping to pick up the myriad fish skeletons laying on the floor. By the time he had deposited them in the kitchen garbage and come back, Riptide was finished with whatever he was drawing, and held the tablet out for Pipes to see. A startlingly accurate drawing of the living room took up one corner of the screen, and next to it was a quickly drawn compass with a question mark. 

Riptide pointed at the drawings, then gestured at the room, singing a few low notes. Pipes cocked his head in thought, peering closer at the drawing as if it would help him puzzle out the meaning. It hit him after a moment of thought and he straightened. 

“You want to know where you are,” he muttered to himself with only slight disbelief. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he hemmed and hawed over the question, eventually moving forward to gather the tablet back into his hands. he scrolled back to the drawing Riptide had done of both himself and the engineer, and quickly scribbled the outline of a house over both figures. He turned the tablet around and pointed.

“Pipes?” he said, pointing to the sketch of himself, and then to the house. “Pipes’ house.”

“Pipes…  _ howz… _ ” Riptide repeated quietly, squinting at the drawing and tapping his fingers on the lip of the tank. He reached forward, scrolling over to the picture of the ocean Pipes had drawn and scratching down a quick compass and question mark.  Pipes took a moment to open up his GPS app, centered in on his home and zoomed out.

“Pipes’ house,” he said, pointing at the dot marking their current location, then drew his finger up along the bend of the river back towards the coast. He tapped the waterfront, “Ocean.”

Riptide tilted his head back and forth, surveying the screen intensely. He nodded to himself after a beat, then grabbed for the tablet again, pausing only long enough to let Pipes show him how to get back to the drawing app before going back to work sketching something out. 

It took significantly less time for Riptide to finish this one, and he turned the tablet around to show a little doodle of himself holding a fish in his mouth. Pipes almost laughed at how comical the drawing looked, but managed to focus on what the mer was trying to communicate. He said his name, sung a quiet tune, then said fish. With the hand not holding the table out, he pat at his abdomen, where bare skin met the stripe of placoid scales on the ventral face of his tail.

Pipes was confused by the gesture, but slowly began to understand-- which seemed to be the theme of their attempts at communication. Slowly, he looked up into Riptide’s face and asked, “Are you hungry?”

Riptide seemed to wilt, and repeated the same song-phrase he had before, which Riptide could only assume was something along the lines of _ I don't know what you mean _ .  He flustered and cast about as if he could find an answer to the predicament laying around on the floor.

“Uh,” he said, “Riptide… Riptide want fish?”

The mer brightened, grinned another brilliant toothy grin, and nodded emphatically. “Riptide want fish!”

“Okay, big guy,” Pipes laughed, backing up a step. He made both of his arms into a loop, as if cradling something, and said, “Pipes bring fish.”

Riptide looked at him with the same thoughtful look he'd been wearing on and off through their stilted conversation, but nodded, and Pipes turned to head into the kitchen. Through the window of the breakfast nook, he watched Riptide toy with the tablet curiously, and chuckled to himself as he set about making dinner with a smile on his face.

It wasn't exactly how he envisioned having to finally start cooking dinner for two, but he couldn't quite find it in himself to complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first time i've ever written a language barrier fic and i just sort of winged it so please be gentle with how i handle it hdkgjhdfg


	3. Chapter 3

Two days and a handful of fish mox tablets later, and Riptide was looking-- and assumedly  _ feeling _ \-- much better. His color had turned from a desaturated grey-blue to a gradient of vivid color, from white to icey blue and then to navy, accented occasionally with a pinkish-purple color a few shades darker than his skin. His wounds had begun to close up nicely, and while the voracious appetite Pipes had come to respect waned as he grew stronger, the mer seemed to become more restless and agitated as time went on.

Pipes had woken that morning to find Riptide out of the tank, leaning against the seat of the couch, snoring quietly under the sound of the television, which the engineer distinctly remembered shutting off. That had been the last in a series of clues that informed Pipes of the mer’s need to move and be active, and after helping Riptide back into the tank-- a much simpler act while he was awake-- he decided to do something about it.

The majority of the day afterward had been spent pouring over the kitchen table, drafting and designing, only occasionally being distracted by Riptide and his growing restlessness. The device he fashioned took him less time to fabricate than to conceptualize, even with his startling lack of necessary components, and just before lunchtime he helped Riptide back down onto the floor to try it on.

It was a simple enough concept; a large section of clear tubing was sealed at both ends and covered with a snug fabric sock. Two big holes were cut on either end, then fitted with an airtight rubber seal. Between the holes on the back was a nozzle to fill the tubing up with water, and on the side opposite of the nozzle was a buckle to fasten the belt together with.  

The  _ idea _ was to not only give Riptide more mobility, but to keep him breathing comfortably during the inevitable drive back to the coast. The only problem was that the mer, still frustrated by his relatively sudden exponential increase in stagnancy, did not want to sit still long enough for Pipes to put it on him once he was finally out of the tank again. Instead, he wriggled and rolled around on the floor, dragging himself across the carpet with a speed belying his size and lack of legs.

Pipes finally cornered him just before he pulled himself onto the kitchen tiles, dropping down to kneel over his tail and fit the apparatus around his hips. Riptide flailed and smacked his tail on the floor in annoyance, letting out a string of loud, indignant operatic noises, which made trying to fasten the belt a veritable nightmare.

“Would you quit  _ fussing _ ?” Pipes grumbled from where he had his face pressed against Riptide's shoulder, struggling to thread the loose end of the belt through the buckle. Riptide warbled and pushed at one of Pipes’ hands, undoing what little of the belt the engineer had secured. “Riptide,  _ come on!  _ I just wanna help!”

The mer slumped forward dramatically, pillowed his face into his arms and snorted through his gills, but didn't actively fight anymore. With the main obstacle out of the way, Pipes managed to mark down the adjustments he needed to make and free Riptide in less than a minute once the belt was on. He unlooped it and pulled it free, smiling at the pouting mer with satisfaction.

“Was that so hard?” he asked, knowing he wouldn't receive an answer. He flopped the belt up onto the counter and turned back to Riptide, who was trying to drag himself away surreptitiously. When the mer looked back and noticed he was caught, he stilled briefly before launching into a sheepish chorus. Pipes just held up his hands, waiting until the other was done before saying. “Pipes bring fish. Where Riptide? Tank?”

Riptide made a face at him, a comical frown twisting his features as if he'd been presented with something unsavory and been told he would have to eat it. He looked over his shoulder at the aquarium, huffed, and hung his head defeatedly. “Yes. Tank.”

Pipes chuckled as he crossed the space, the mer dragging himself along a few step behind him. When Riptide was close enough, the engineer gathered his petulant friend in his arms and heaved upwards, getting him level with the tank. The mer slid himself over the lip of the aquarium and promptly laid down flat under the water with his back to Pipes, arms crossed. Pipes looked at him with a fondness that was only partially tinged with exasperation, then turned and made his way back to the kitchen and the salmon steaks waiting there.

Pipes worked while he cooked and then while he ate, stooped over the belt in deep concentration. The adjustments were simple enough, but time consuming and tricky to do without having to remake the whole apparatus. He was distantly aware of Riptide watching him from the tank as he ate his lunch, and Pipes would stop now and then to smile at him. Each time, Riptide's fins would flare and he would look quickly away, frowning with feigned disinterest. Pipes would chuckle to himself, then go back to his work studiously without much further interruption.

By the time his plate was empty, he was rather confident in the alterations made to the device. He didn't have to do much to get Riptide back out of the tank, as the mer was practically climbing the walls in his boredom. He brightened upon Pipes’ offer to help him out, but his smile fell once he was on the floor and the engineer had brandished the belt. 

Riptide huffed, but rolled over onto his back when Pipes prompted him to, and allowed the thing to be fastened around him without much hassle. The engineer took care to line the holes up in a way that the mer’s gills wouldn't be impeded or pressed on, but would still seal around them without leaking. When he was done, filling the belt was a simple matter of unscrewing the valve on the back and sliding a smaller tube into it, through which saltwater from the tank was pumped, then capping the apparatus once more when it was full.

Pipes sat back on his haunches, checking for leaks or gaps, but was pleased to find the belt doing its job perfectly. A moment later, Riptide startled as his first real in-vent with the device on revealed the nature of the belt. After a few breaths, a slow smile spread across his face.

“Good?” Pipes queried, smiling at the mer who was quickly becoming beside himself with excitement. 

His answer was Riptide lurching upward suddenly and catching him around the collar of his shirt, then yanking him forward to smash their lips together. Pipes choked in surprise, holding his arms out to try and maintain his balance, before hesitantly setting his hands on the mer’s shoulders.

Riptide didn't seem interested in letting the kiss linger; after the initial press of their mouths, he gently raked his pointed teeth across Pipes’ lower lip, but then disengaged with the slightest brush of their lips made in parting.

Pipes swallowed hard as Riptide pulled away, eyes going to the floor beside them and staying there. The mer didn't seem to notice Pipes’ fluster, or perhaps was ignoring it, sliding himself out from under the engineer and away towards the couch and the coffee table where the television remote was.  Pipes covered his mouth with his hand as he rose, his face flushed with embarrassment. He stared after Riptide, who was too busy slowly scrolling through the channels to pay attention to his host. The engineer huffed, willing the heat in his face to dissipate as he walked back into the kitchen to clean up the dishes from lunch. It was silly to be embarrassed over something that probably didn’t mean the same thing to Riptide as it did to him, he decided, and he would absolutely not dwell on how nice it had felt in retrospect.

Absolutely not. 

The dishes were squared away with Pipes’ usual ease, but the prospect of being alone with his thoughts was unusually daunting. His solution to this was to launch himself into as many chores as he could; he cleaned the bathroom, did the laundry, cleaned out every closet in the house and reorganized them. The fact of the matter was that he was a damnably neat person to begin with, so not many chores actually had to be done-- and there wasn’t much work to  _ make  _ for himself. 

Day had turned to dusk by the time he finished scrubbing the kitchen tiles. He stood and stretched, then skirted around the breakfast nook to make his way back to the living room. Riptide was stretched out on the floor in front of the couch, ignoring the television-- which was playing a weight loss supplement infomercial-- doing something on Pipes’ tablet. He was so focused on whatever he was tapping away at that he didn’t notice Pipes’ approaching until the engineer stopped half an arm’s length away.  When he did, he perked up with a low chirr and gave Pipes a toothy grin.

“Hi cutie,” Riptide said, with the same Urayan accent that had made Pipes realize it was probably just something he heard a lot from a denizen of the opposite state. He paused only a moment before crooning out a few notes, and Pipes nearly lost what little poise he’d managed to get back, covering for himself by reaching overtop of Riptide and grabbing the remote.

“Um. Hi.” Pipes said, pointing at the TV, “Pipes want.”

Riptide glanced over his shoulder at the screen and nodded, going back to the game he’d managed to figure out how to use. Pipes watched him for a moment before flopping down onto the couch and rubbing his face. He flipped through the channels until he hit the news, then settled back, propping his feet up on the coffee table. After a few minutes, Riptide wiggled backward out from under the bridge of his legs and pulled himself up onto the couch beside Pipes, curling up with his back pressed into the engineer’s flank, tugging Pipes’ closest arm around himself after a beat. 

Pipes gripped his composure with both metaphorical hands, reasoning with himself internally; What little he’d seen about mers from documentaries hinted at them being very social creatures, and this was probably -- no, this was  _ definitely _ not the same to Riptide as it was to Pipes. He was probably  _ lonely,  _ and unused to having limited physical contact with other mers. Pipes was no mer, but he was the best Riptide had available to him at the moment. It was almost assured that the mer meant nothing by it.

It was nice to pretend, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super late and super distracted but it's still monday for me so that's what's important, right? ANYWAY THANKS FOR READING AND SORRY I'M SO PREDICTABLE! and also sorry this one is short hdkjgdfg


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS LATE AND I'M SORRY!! anyway this is probably my favorite chapter and is another short one so beware i guess

Three in the morning the next day, Pipes roused himself and began to prepare for the drive to the shore. The storms had stopped around midnight the second night of Riptide’s stay, but power for the majority of the coastal district was still off, and most of the district was still abandoned from the evacuation. He had checked, and the river behind his home where he had  _ found  _ the mer was clear as far as he could see, but a few houses down it curved sharply to the north, which meant that filling the belt and sending Riptide on his way was not an option. The thought that he might become stuck further downstream and be captured by someone without his interest in mind was a harrowing one, and Pipes’ stomach flipped sickeningly when he thought about anyone from the government getting their hands on Riptide.

Which meant the only option to get him back to his home was to  _ take him there. _

There were a few problems with that; namely, Riptide was the least inconspicuous being on the planet, and one quick glance and an even quicker phone call would have the police after him in a heartbeat. His only real solution was to go while it was still dark out, hence the early hour at which he had woken. Hopefully, anyone who was actually up would be too busy with their own business to mind Pipes’.

He knew for a fact that Riptide wouldn’t lay down in the back of the jeep and stay still; he was much too curious, and with the language barrier between them there was no way for Pipes to communicate the importance of not drawing attention to themselves. Besides-- the back of the jeep only had a thin net meant to keep cargo from falling out of the vehicle instead of a real tailgate. It wasn’t  _ safe  _ to put Riptide there.

So he was going to have to ride up front, where the buckles were.

Pipes sighed as he downed his lukewarm coffee and dumped the mug into the sink. He crossed the space, gently rousing the mer with a hand on his shoulder and a quiet calling of his name.  Riptide chirred sleepily at him, but sat up after a moment, blinking with confusion.

“Riptide out,” Pipes said softly, offering a hand to help the mer up onto the lip of the tank. Riptide complied easily, yawning as the engineer lowered him to the floor and gathered the belt from the coffee table. This time, the mer let him fasten it without any complaint, and leaned docilely against the leg of the aquarium stand as Pipes turned on the pump to fill it. He chirred questioningly at the engineer, and Pipes smiled.

“Riptide want ocean?” he asked, and the mer tilted his head in thought before nodding indolently. “Pipes bring Riptide ocean.”

For a moment, it didn’t seem like the words made sense to Riptide, but then he blinked, and suddenly he was filled with energy. The toothy grin that Pipes had come to find familiar spread across his face, and he sung a soft, excited melody as his fins flared and waved in sudden restlessness.  Pipes laughed, stooping to shut the pump off and cap the belt, then turned and headed to the garage door. Riptide followed him, singing enthusiastically, but only peered around the door frame when his host ambled down the short set of stairs toward his car. He crooned what Pipes had begun to understand meant ‘ _ what’ _ and pointed at the jeep as the engineer turned around.

“Jeep.” Pipes said, patting the hood of the vehicle gently. “Jeep bring Pipes, Riptide ocean.”

Riptide cocked his head, but scooted down the steps carefully to get closer. He patted the flank of the Jeep just above the rear fender and quietly said, “Hi.”

Pipes snorted, but didn’t bother trying to correct him. Instead, he stepped forward and opened the passenger-side door, patting its seat. The mer moved forward, and let Pipes help him up into the seat, then buckle him. Pipes moved around to the driver’s side and climbed in, and when they both settled, the engineer looked at him seriously and said, “Good?”

Once Riptide nodded, Pipes pulled out of the garage and headed down the street. 

The drive was predictably slow at first; between downed trees and downed streetlights, more than a few detours had to be made before they could get onto the freeway toward the coast. Riptide seemed surprisingly at ease with the ride, curious about the inside and the outside of the car in equal parts. Pipes couldn’t help watching him every now and then as he hung his arm out the window to let his hand surf on the wind, or when he leaned forward to watch something interesting even after they had passed it.

The freeway curved back around after a while, heading them back towards the ocean instead of alongside of it. Before long the air began to smell like salt, and Riptide was keenly aware of it; his atrial gills opened and closed as if tasting the air, his fins flared with interest, and he chirred quietly to himself from the nest of his arms he’d made on the ledge of the door. He seemed almost crestfallen,  which was strange and striking contrast to his regular animated jubilance. Pipes watched him for a moment longer, trying to figure what might have changed, but after some thought blamed it on the mer being tired.

By the time the sandy white expanse of the beach appeared before them, the sky had brightened with pale pre-dawn light. The sight of the water seemed to wake Riptide. He grinned widely and bounced in his seat, his tail thumping against the floorboards, arm stretched out toward the ocean surf. Pipes couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at his exuberance as he turned off the freeway and navigated through the handful of turns that would take them to the beach proper.  

His jeep tackled the sand without any trouble, and he pulled up until the passenger-side tires were in the water at the farthest point of the sandbar before turning the car off and hopping out. Before he could he make it around the front of the car once more, Riptide was pawing uselessly at his door, trying to get it to open, and when Pipes  _ did  _ open it the mer attempted to slide out immediately. He got caught up in his seatbelt, and honked incredulously at the contraption for slowing him down.

Pipes laughed, reaching around him to undo the buckle and then working studiously to untangle Riptide from the strap. Waiting seemed to be something akin to torture to the mer, who nearly leapt into the engineer’s arms when Pipes beckoned him and said, “Riptide out!”

Riptide patted at him and crooned notes made crooked with his elation. Pipes waded out into the water until it was up to his knees, then set the mer down slowly. Immediately, Riptide dove into what little water there was, slapping his tail against the surface and rolling in place, before finally coming up and trilling at Pipes. The engineer shuffled over and up the shore a bit, and Riptide drug himself up to meet him. 

“I think this is it,” Pipes said softly as he knelt where the sand met the surf, heedless of how the water wicked up the legs of his jeans and soaked into his shoes.  Riptide pulled himself up the beach and pressed his face against Pipe’s shoulder, chirring contentedly, and the engineer took the time to unfasten the belt from around the mer. Before he could toss it behind him, Riptide hooked his webbed fingers around it and let out a few lilting notes.

“Riptide… want,” He said, after clearly having to think about it for a moment. Pipes smiled at him, doing his best to shove down a unexpected wash of emotion by nodding his head.

“Yeah. Yes.” The engineer said, pressing the belt into the mer’s hands. He struggled to think of any way he had to communicate further, but finally just settled for quietly muttering, “It’s yours, big guy.”

The mer looked at him for a moment, before turning and diving into the water with all the inherent grace his species was known for. Pipes was nearly overcome by his sudden sorrow, but after a moment, Riptide surfaced again and came swimming back sans belt. He didn’t slow, riding the tide up the beach until he crashed into the engineer, wrapping his arms around Pipes’ neck and pressing their lips together. 

This time, the kiss  _ did  _ linger; The mer was not contented with the chaste thing they’d shared before, nipping and mouthing at Pipes’ lips with great enthusiasm. Pipes slowly relaxed into the kiss, sliding his arms around Riptide’s back and pulling him as close to his chest as he could, hoping to keep him from being pulled away by the waves as their mouths moved together.

Riptide pulled back eventually, but but seemingly only to let his savior catch his breath. They were only apart a moment before he pressed back in, unhooking one arm to run his webbed hand along Pipes’ jaw tenderly. Two kisses turned to three, all of them with equal ardor, before Riptide actually pulled away. 

Pipes didn’t fight it, or try to keep him there. It was best for Riptide-- perhaps best for  _ both _ of them that the mer return to his home. His melancholy was sliced through by the sound of Riptide’s laughter, a deep and breezy thing that sounded so  _ right _ framed by the crashing of the waves around them. He smiled despite himself, and waved at the other, who had swum out a few body-lengths away and was watching him.

Riptide waved back, and with one last face-splitting smile disappeared under the waves.

Pipes sat on the beach for a while after that, heels dug into the sand, and watched the sun as it finally crested the horizon and blanketed him in its warm rays. He cursed himself quietly; he and  _ known _ from the start that Riptide couldn’t stay, that he would have to go back to the ocean eventually. He had  _ thought  _ he was prepared for it, and he had been  _ wrong. _

But now, there was nothing to be done about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Happy,, uhhh, tuesday.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a second chapter to make up for being late (also to squeeze in another entry while it's still mermay.)

Three weeks had gone by at a crawl.

The day after he’d returned Riptide to the ocean, citizens began to return to the coastal district. At first it was a trickle, but it soon turned to a flood. Pipes had been called into work the following day, and between the traffic and the cleanup efforts he had been late. He had  _ planned _ to clean up after the mer was gone-- to fix his aquarium, and go out to purchase new pets, and to fix the wall where Riptide had gouged the it the first day of his stay. His time had been eaten up by work in the mornings and helping his neighbors repair the damage to their homes in the evenings-- none of the stores  _ near him  _ were open, all of them suffering closures as they recovered from the lack of power, and none of the stores farther inland were open late enough for him to reach in time.

He could have dealt with that, had that been the end of it, but the universe just seemed content to trample him into the dirt. Construction noises broke the air at all hours, robbing him of sleep, and barely a week after his last outing for supplies, he was out of food once more, having not counted on how insatiable the mer’s appetite would be after he woke. 

The idea of going out to find food was significantly less pressing to him, in his cafard, than it should have been. Thankfully, at least that problem was easily solvable; the restaurant from which he usually got takeout sushi had been far enough into the city that it hadn’t been affected by the storm, and was close enough that they were willing to deliver to him.

And if it was perhaps not good form to eat sushi every night for a week and a half, he couldn’t quite muster the motivation to care.

That night had gone much the same as every other night for the past three weeks. He had come home and immediately headed down the street to help an elderly couple fix the damages the storm had done to their house. When the sun went down, he’d ordered dinner and collapsed on the couch long enough to get comfortable before the doorbell rang and he had to get up again, cursing himself for following the same trend as he had day in and day out for almost a month. Dinner in hand, he’d sat down again-- but this time, the idea of eating hadn’t really appealed to him, so he’d set the box aside in favor of drowning out the sounds of construction with the television.

Half way through an action movie whose plot he couldn’t concentrate on and whose name he couldn’t catch, his attention was stolen by a sudden knock.  It had been so quiet and quick that he wasn’t sure if he’d actually heard it or not. He sat up and muted the TV, waiting to see if it would come again. Nothing happened for nearly a minute, but then the knock rang out into the silence again. Pipes climbed to his feet and headed for the kitchen, where the sound had come from. He drew to a stop in the middle of the room, waiting-- and sure enough, after nearly a minute had passed, the knock came again, louder and longer this time.  

Pipes went to the patio doors with only a little hesitation. His whole back yard was fenced in, from the back of the house all the way down to the riverbank, meaning whoever-- or  _ what _ ever-- was knocking had to have either crossed the river or climbed over the fence from a neighboring yard. He steeled himself and pulled the curtain back enough to look out onto the patio, but froze at what he saw.

 

Riptide was sitting there. 

Out in the open. 

In the middle of his patio. 

Just... _knocking_ _on his door_ like he was a neighbor come to borrow sugar.

 

Without hesitation, Pipes yanked the door open, and the mer invited himself inside, careful to pull his caudal fin in past the track for the door. The engineer closed it, locked it, drew the curtains and shut off the patio light, peering out around the curtain for a moment before turning back to Riptide. The mer was grinning at him, still hugging his tail to himself in excitement. 

“Riptide,” He said after a moment of flabbergasted speechlessness, “You’re-- you came back?”

Riptide nodded, apparently very pleased with himself. Slowly, he said, “I… want to seeing you.”

Pipes’ eyebrows shot up in shock. “You can-- you speak Neocybex now?”

“A little,” The mer looked abashed for a moment. “I want... talk with you… more good.”

“Um, that’s--” Pipes sighed and rubbed his face. “That’s  _ really  _ sweet, Riptide, and to be honest with you, I’m not sure how to react to that.”

Riptide’s smile softened from his toothy grin into something a little more familiar. Pipes had to look away, because he was sure he was reading too much into it-- that he was just imagining the affection in the mer’s gaze. His heart had started beating faster over  _ nothing,  _ his stomach was doing flips over  _ nothing _ , his palms were sweaty over  _ nothing, _ and the quiet longing he’d been pushing out of his mind since the day he’d taken the mer back to the coast was seeping its way back into him over absolutely **_nothing._ **

“Uh-- So, I mean-- Did you… have a  _ reason  _ for coming here?” Pipes said, voice too-loud from nervousness. He cleared his throat and continued. “Not that-- Not that I’m not happy to see you, you know, but Merfolk are… they're not really allowed to be in our state. It’s dangerous here.”

“I miss you,” Riptide said, his face falling as he searched for the words he needed. “But I do not want you… with trouble.”

“Hey, no-- C’mon big guy, it’s alright,” Pipes said, kneeling. “I missed you too, more than I thought I would.”

Quietly, the mer slid himself forward until he could lean against Pipes’ chest, and Pipes gathered him into his arms, holding him close. The stayed like that for a few moments, enjoying one another’s presence and the easy silence they were able to slip into still. 

“I can stay?” Riptide asked quietly from where he was idly playing with the hem of Pipes’ sleeve. “Tonight?”

The engineer hesitated for a moment, then sighed-- but it was a fond thing, not at all frustrated-- and ran his hand down Riptides’ back. “Of course,” he said, leaning back a bit, and the mer looked up at him. Pipes smiled. “You wanna watch tv with me?”

Riptide nodded, his smile coming back slowly, and Pipes stood and moved back into the living room. Riptide followed him, and once the engineer sat down, he pulled himself up onto the couch and curled up against Pipes’ side, tugging his arm over his shoulders again as if they’d never been separated. After a minute or two, Pipes relaxed into the position, smiling to himself as he flipped through the channels looking for something to watch. 

While he did, Riptide had leaned forward and grabbed the take out container to sniff at. Pipes didn’t notice he had it until the mer reached over and tapped his leg, shaking the box at him and asking, “What this?”

“Oh--” Pipes said, “That’s my dinner. It’s Sushi.”

“Sushi?” Riptide echoed, letting Pipes take the box in return for the remote. He watched as the lid was taken off and set aside, revealing a wide variety of maki and nigiri pieces. Pipes picked up a piece rolled in a dark green paper-like substance and held it up.

“This is called a California Roll.” He said, holding it out to the mer, who sniffed it curiously. “Do you want to try it?”

Without answering, Riptide leaned forward and closed his mouth around Pipes’ fingers. The engineer startled and let go of the maki, turning his face away to try and hide the blush he could tell was forming there, and doing his best to forget the gentle brush of the mer’s tongue and teeth against his digits. 

Which was a lot easier in theory than in practice.

Beside him, Riptide made a whining noise. Pipes looked back over to see him spit out a mouthful of half-chewed sushi, immediately beginning to pick through it with his unburdened hand to separate the pieces of nori from the rest of it. 

“Oh my god, okay,” Pipes said, laughing despite himself as he leaned forward and pulled a napkin out of the bag his dinner had come in. He took the mer’s wrist gently and wiped the food out of his palm. “So I take it you don’t like the seaweed paper?”

“No!” Riptide cried, so earnestly and desperately that Pipes spluttered back into laughter again. Riptide made a pitiful face at his hand, and the engineer did his best to compose himself as he turned to face the mer better, holding out a piece of salmon nigiri.

“Try this one,” He said, offering it from the flat of his palm in hopes that the mer would pick it up before trying to eat it, “It’s just rice and fish. No seaweed.” 

Riptide looked up at him with an expression that was still comically miserable and a little distrustful before leaning in and picking it up-- with his tongue.  Pipes bit the inside of his cheek while he watched, assuring himself that this was another culture clash, and that mers were much more casually intimate with one another than he’d thought. Once more, he told himself, he was getting worked up over nothing.

Riptide had looked down while he ate, appearing thoughtful, but when he was finished he grinned up at the engineer, his earlier anguish gone without a trace. “I like it!”

Pipes laughed again. “Alright. You can have the nigiri, then, and I’ll eat the maki.”

Riptide seemed pacified by that, and settled back down against the engineer as he resumed channel surfing. Eventually, unimpressed by what was available, he rented a movie from the list of pay-per-view options. It was a recent release from a popular children's content producer, which he had heard was surprisingly engaging for something aimed at an audience half his age.  Its plot seemed fairly straightforward, too, which he hoped meant Riptide would be able to follow it without much trouble.

The mer seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes glued to the screen as he casually noshed on half of Pipes’ dinner, occasionally pausing long enough to ask for clarification about something the characters had said or done. Pipes would explain it as simply as he could, and Riptide would make little low noises of understanding as he watched with a new comprehension. The questions tapered off near the halfway point of the movie, the sushi long since finished, and Riptide shifted against him until he could lay his head on Pipe's shoulder, freeing his dorsal fin from being pinned against the couch. 

Twice, Pipes caught himself absently running his thumb along the line where the smooth flat scales on the sides of the mer’s tail met the rough scales on his front, before finally switching the remote to the arm slung around Riptide’s waist to prevent himself from doing it again. The mer didn't seem to notice when he was petting him or when he wasn't, so engrossed was he in the movie, and for that Pipes was more thankful than he could express.

The movie ended after a while, and as he turned his head to ask if the mer wanted to watch another, the words died in his throat. Riptide was asleep, the angles of his face highlighted unflatteringly by the harsh light of the TV. His cheek was smushed against Pipes’ shoulder in a way that  trapped the fin on the side of his face between them, his head was tilted back awkwardly to keep his crest from jabbing into the back of the couch, and he was drooling a bit onto the sleeve of Pipe’s shirt.

Pipes couldn't help thinking that even like this, Riptide was the most beautiful person he'd ever met. 

The same heart-pounding, face-heating, stomach-flipping feelings from earlier returned in force, and for a moment Pipes just let them exist, let himself  _ acknowledge  _ what they  _ were:  _ he had it  _ bad.  _ Somehow, he'd managed to fall in love with Riptide, after less than a week of stilted conversation and a handful of kisses he couldn't believe meant anything to the mer. He accepted the fact that he was in love.

He also accepted the fact that nothing could ever possibly come of it. 

Even if, somehow, Riptide loved him back, mers were  _ illegal _ in Iacon. It was too dangerous for them to be with one another in any capacity-- even  _ friendship  _ was too risky. He couldn't stand the thought of Riptide coming to see him and getting hurt, or even captured.

He would have to impress it upon Riptide that he couldn't come back again before he left, he decided, even if it meant making the mer hate him. It was better than letting him be murdered.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, deciding to cross that bridge when he came to it, and clicked off the tv. He turned towards Riptide, working to carefully arrange the mer against him until they laid chest to chest, the mer’s face pressed against his neck, Pipes arms wrapped around him to hold him close.  He buried his nose into the crook of Riptide’s neck and closed his eyes, moving until his ear was pressed against the soft pinkish skin of the mer’s shoulder. 

He fell asleep listening to the slow sound of Riptide's heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Happy tuesday and/or mermay! 
> 
> One tiny note-- Normally I wouldn't write Riptide as so stiff and formal sounding but In highschool i took about 5 different foreign language classes and i was almost always taught formal before casual.


	6. Chapter 6

Pipes’ was startled awake by a harsh banging on his front door. He shot up so fast he fell off the edge of the couch, and in his scramble to grab anything to catch himself on he nearly yanked Riptide down on top of him. The mer made a groggy sound, and Pipes shushed him softly, picking up his phone to glance at the time. 

_ Nobody  _ brought good news at quarter to six in the morning.

Pipes leaned in towards Riptide as the mer sat up, brushing down Riptide’s pale pink arms until he could hold his webbed hands in his own.  Riptide looked a him and then at the door, his expression slowly growing alarmed. The engineer squeezed his hands, drawing his attention again.

“Hey, hey-- it’s alright, big guy, don’t worry.” Pipes whispered quickly, “Everything’s gonna be okay, alright, but I need you to go over there,” Pipes gestured to the darkened hallway that lead to back of the house. “And  _ hide,  _ okay? Do you know what hiding is?”

Riptide nodded slowly, the alarm on his face only growing when the harsh banging came again and someone from the other side shouted, “Police! Open up!”

“Be quick.” Pipes encouraged quietly, before angling himself towards the door and saying, “Hold on, hold on-- I’m coming!”

He watched until Riptide was safely huddled in the farthest, darkest corner, then quickly tugged off his shirt and mussed up his hair as he crossed the room. He opened the door in the middle of another series of loud knocks, the chain lock catching and keeping it mostly closed. On the other side of the door, four uniformed policemen stood with a fifth, very serious looking man in front of them, 

“Pipes of Pescus Hex?” The man said. Pipes looked at his badge, where the name Prowl was engraved. 

“Uh, y-yeah? That’s me, can I-- can I help you gentlemen?” Pipes said rubbing at his face with feigned drowsiness.

“You certainly can,” Prowl said, “Please open the door. We’re here to search the premises.”

“What--  _ Why?!”  _ the engineer cried incredulously.

“Because I  _ say so _ .” The officer intoned, somehow managing to look even less amused than when he first arrived. 

“Alright-- all due respect, sir, but if you want in my house you’re gonna need a warrant.” Pipes said, moving to close the door. One of the officers behind Prowl slammed their hand into the door, propping it open. 

“All due respect,” Prowl echoed slowly, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a sheet of paper, which he unfolded and held up for the engineer to see. “But I  _ have one. _ ”

Pipes leaned forward and squinted at the sheet, then sighed. “Yeah, alright, fine. Let me get the slide lock off and I’ll let you in.”

Prowl stared at him with a great intensity for a moment, but then gestured over his shoulder without taking his eyes off of Pipes. The taller man behind the head officer took his hand off the door, and slowly, Pipes closed it, keeping eye contact with the police officer the entire time. When it was shut he immediately locked the handle and then the deadbolt, yanked the end-table that sat next to the door in front of it, and bolted for the hallway. Shouts erupted from outside, but the engineer ignored them in favor of dropping low enough to scoop up a frightened Riptide in his arms. 

“Riptide, buddy?” He said quietly as he crossed into the kitchen. Riptide looked up at him with naked fear in his eyes, and Pipes smiled his best reassuring smile, “I need you to run away. Do you know what that means?” Before Riptide could answer, Pipes set him down in front of the back doors and opened them. “Go back to the river then swim home, to the ocean. Okay? Alright?”

Riptide nodded frantically, scooting forward over the threshold as he cast a glance first at Pipes and then at the door, just in time to watch the table fall over from the force of the assault the officers were launching. Pipes smiled again. “Go on!” He encouraged softly, “It’ll be alright. I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

After a moment of hesitation, Riptide nodded again, then quickly began sliding himself down the lawn toward the river. Pipes watched until he was half-way there, then shut the door and yanked the curtain closed, moving toward the back hall where the mer had been hiding. As he made it to the couch, which was the halfway point between the kitchen and the hall, the door burst open and the police poured inside. 

Prowl ran past the cop with the battering ram and climbed up over the couch in an attempt to catch Pipes, wrapping one hand around the engineer’s upper arm. Pipes wound the arm that wasn’t being pulled forward by the cop and then swung, punching the unsuspecting officer squarely in the nose. Prowl stumbled backwards, hand flying to his nose, and Pipes stepped backward in an attempt to get away from the two other officers that bracketed the couch in an attempt to cut off his escape routes. 

He turned, intending to climb up through the breakfast nook window, but was caught in the side by the probes of a third officer’s taser. White hot pain laced through him, whiting his vision and making him feel like he was spinning sickeningly. He fell forward, disoriented, and smashed his head on the edge of the counter.

He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

* * *

When he came to--  _ really  _ came to-- he was alone in a room with three chairs and a table, and two overhead lights that were so bright they hurt his eyes. He was zip-tied to the chair he sat in and slumped ungracefully in it, head hanging over the back in a way that put a crick in his neck. There was a door to his right, but he didn’t bother checking it; he knew it was locked. To the left of the door there was a window that lead out to the hall, and in the corner of the room he faced there was a camera with a blinking red light bolted to the ceiling. 

Gingerly, he reached up and touched his head with his free hand. There was some kind of cut there, held closed by two wide wound-closure strips. It was hot and swollen, and the moment the tips of his fingers brushed he became suddenly nauseous. He slumped forward and gently laid his head on the tabletop, careful not to bump his wound. The surface was cool, and it felt good against his feverish skin.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that before the door clicked open and two officers entered, with another two taking up position by the window, and Pipes turned his head to look at them. The taller of the two was named Groove, and her shorter companion’s badge read Streetwise. Streetwise slapped a folder on the table, crossing her arms over her chest and flopping into the far chair unceremoniously. Groove sat down much easier, crossing one leg over the other and lacing her fingers around the toe of her shoe.

“Pipes, right?” Streetwise said, breaking the silence of the room. 

“That’s right ma’am,” Pipes muttered into the table.

“Alright,  _ Pipes, _ ” She said, pronouncing his name like it was the most vulgar of insults, “I’ll cut to the chase; where are the mers?”

Slowly, Pipes lifted his head from the table and stared at her like she'd just spoken another language. “What are you  _ talking about _ ?”

“We have reason to believe you've been keeping dangerous mers in your home.” Groove clarified.

“Do you have  _ evidence?”  _ Pipes asked, looking between the women slowly. Streetwise looked smug, reaching for the folder and flipping through pages for a moment before slapping a picture down on the table so hard it made the metal ring, aggravating Pipes’ headache.

“For starters, there's the tank in your living room.” She said. Pipes blinked at her.

“The  _ aquarium?”  _ he clarified, “For my  _ pet fish?” _

“ _ What _ fish?” She demanded, “The tank was  _ empty _ besides saltwater and gravel.”

“Yeah, because they died when the power went out during the hurricane. Thank you for reminding me.” he snarked rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Did you somehow not see the books about keeping saltwater fish on the shelf?”

“Then why did we find traces of dried saltwater all over the house?” She continued, “And how do you explain the gouge in the wall above the tank? It’s clearly from a claw!”

“I’m sorry, I didn't know I could be arrested for  _ not fixing my drywall _ . The salt water is from my aquarium,  _ obviously. _ ” He countered. “Do you reach so desperately for  _ all  _ your evidence or am I just that innocent?”

“You think you're funny?” Streetwise growled, leaning forward into his space. He sighed.

“No, ma’am, I think I have a concussion.” He said, equal parts angry and tired. “Can you please continue?”

“Why did you have so much fish in your freezer if you're not feeding mers with it?” She asked. Pipes balked.

“I’m a fucking pescetarian, you  _ troglodyte!”  _ he exclaimed, laughing. 

Streetwise looked ready to tear into him, but Groove stuck out an arm to stop her. She waited until Pipes composed himself before asking, “If you weren't hiding anything, why’d you try to run? Why’d you hit Prowl? Even if the mer charge is dropped, you’ll still go to jail for assault of an officer. We have four witnesses and a victim who will all testify against you.”

“Because I don't like cops!” He shouted, “Especially not cops who think they can just show up at six in the morning and demand to search my house!” Then, he sat back and crossed his arm over his chest. “I’m not saying anything else. I want a lawyer.”

Streetwise glared at him, then stood and moved to the door. Groove followed after her after quietly collecting the folder and its contents before leaving Pipes alone. Nearly a half hour passed before the door opened and someone came in and cut him free of the chair after getting his word that he would behave, directing him through a series of halls and into an empty cell at the far end of the lockup.

The time between the jail and the prison quickly became a blur of movement and sound. People--  _ lawyers-- _ had spoke to him, and he felt as though he may have replied, but he couldn’t remember what he had said. His only memory of the courtroom he’d been to was a distant smear of dark gold-brown, every movement slowed and sound thickened like he’d been drugged. His mind remained elsewhere, preoccupied with thoughts of the mer he’d put himself on the line to protect.    
  
Riptide was virtually a stranger, and they’d exchanged only a paltry sum of words in all the time that Pipes had known the mer-- but as he was lead down the hall of the prison, towards the cell that was waiting for him, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret his choice. Yes, he was in prison. Yes, he had almost definitely lost his job, his house, his friends.    
  
But  _ no _ , he didn’t regret it. Riptide was safe-- nothing could catch a mer in the water, and even nets were thwarted nine times out of ten by their sharp teeth and claws. He’d bought time for the mer to make it to the river, and from there he was certain that Riptide had escaped.

He’d paid the price for his diversion, sure-- but for once, the price was  _ worth paying. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN IM SO SORRY BUT THIS ISN'T THE END I PROMISE


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really short and i apologize but its soft so hopefully it makes up for last week

Somewhat surprisingly, five years passed by in a flash.    
  
His time in prison had been burned through by reading and re-reading books, avoiding the other inmates, and writing. Within the first month of his imprisonment, he’d received a letter from a foundation in Uraya. The wording had been vague and non incriminating, but the point had been clear;  _ if  _ he’d harbored mers, they supported him. So much so, in fact, they had offered to buy him a house on the coast opposite of the one his Iaconian home had sat on, where the aquatic subspecies was protected and interaction was perfectly  _ normal. _ He had, wisely, neither accepted nor declined the offer, claiming a desire to keep his options open-- but the moment he was released from jail, he was dipping in his pre-sentence savings to buy a ticket to a flight across the ocean.   
  
Pursuing the offer felt like an admittance of guilt. 

It took him a moment, as he milled about looking for his guide, to remember that he  _ was  _ guilty. He’d spent so long vehemently denying any and all involvement in mer harboring that he’d he denied it on impulse, even when thinking to himself.     
  
He found his host-- the representative assigned to him by the Merfolk Protector’s Outreach Foundation-- and together they left the airport, scrambled into the man’s car, and headed out towards the coastline. It took only a scant handful of minutes for them to arrive at the beach, and an impressive bungalow set up on a rocky outcropping. A big porch wrapped around it’s front, and on one side of the building a ramp was cut into the stone the house sat on-- on the other was a set of broad steps.    
  
Jazz wasted no time in showing him around the place; it had two bedrooms, two bathrooms-- one with a hot tub-- a full kitchen, a den, and an office space. Behind and to the left of the house proper sat a two car garage, and a big yard of well manicured, emerald grass. The back porch had a hot tub as well, set down into the deck, ensuring a wonderful and unobstructed view of the ocean. They spoke briefly about the bills-- or lack of them, at least-- before Jazz tossed him a ring of keys and a smile.   
  
“You know,” He said, as they walked back out to his car. “When Riptide told us about the dude who’d saved him, I don’t think anyone expected you. No offense, of course, but you just don’t seem like the kinda guy whose first instinct is to punch a cop.”   
  
“Yeah, well,” Pipes said bashfully, “Love makes you do crazy things.”   
  
“Man, don’t I know it.” Jazz chuckled. He checked his phone, then grinned a cheshire grin. “You might wanna get down to the beach. Sky-Byte says your mer-friend’s about ready to drag himself outta the water to come find you.”   
  
Pipes startled, whipping his head around towards where the waterfront was hidden by his new home, before turning startled eyes back on the other man. “He’s--?”   
  
“Sure is. Mind if I come with? Byte and I are…” He crossed his fingers with a knowing look, and Pipes nodded, then shook his head.   
  
“Yeah-- no-- I mean-- I don’t mind!” He called over his shoulder as he took off for the house at a dead run. By the time Jazz made it to the front door, Pipes was out the back. He stopped long enough to put a hand to his forehead, squinting in the bright twilight. Surely enough, the sun-crested peaks of the waves were interrupted by two pitch silhouettes. He practically dove for the stairs, taking them two at a time; Behind him, Jazz was making some kind of noise-- laughing, he thought, but he couldn’t concentrate on the sound long enough to tell. His heart pounded in his ears and his mind raced as he crossed the warm sand, emotion welling up in him.   
  
As he got closer to the figures, the impossible situation was only confirmed. There, parting the surf with one of the dopiest, widest, most beautiful grins Pipes had ever seen, Riptide floated, swimming in tiny, anxious circles. Pipes didn’t slow as he hit the wet sand, simply powering his way into the water clothes and all. Behind Riptide, the other mer pulled his hand away, and Riptide lurched forward towards his savior, fins flared in giddy excitement.    
  
Between two hundred pounds of mer, the tide, and the shifting sand underfoot, Pipes lost his footing and crashed into the water, becoming pinned quickly by Riptide’s weight. The mer’s webbed hands twisted into his shirt and yanked him upwards, and before the engineer could get a word in edgewise his once-charge had crushed their mouths together.   
  
This time, Pipes pressed into the kiss-- he didn’t care that Jazz was there, or the other mer, either. All that mattered was that  _ Riptide  _ was here, and he was safe and  _ alive _ and kissing him in the same way he had before but with more vigor, like the slide of their lips was the only thing keeping the mer alive. Pipes wrapped one arm around Riptide’s neck and the other around his back, pulling him closer until he was sitting up with the mer in his lap, his tail draped over one leg. Waves crashed over them as they greeted one another enthusiastically, and not even the ones that flooded Pipes’ nose and threatened to knock him back into the surf were enough to make him break away from their kiss.    
  
Eventually, though, Riptide’s desire to speak to him outweighed his desire to continue smothering Pipes with his lips, and with a little bit of adjustment, he ushered the engineer to sit back out of the surf a ways.   
  
“I missed you so much!” the mer said-- and it was so fluent and clean that it startled Pipes. He blinked at his lover owlishly, before smiling.   
  
“I missed you, too,” He said as he pulled his shoe off, letting sand and water run out of it. Almost nervously, he continued, “You can speak Neocybex, um, better now?”    
  
Riptide nodded, looking pleased with himself, gesturing over to where the other mer and Jazz were coming back down the beach their way. Pipes hadn’t noticed them moving off, and felt sheepish. “My grandpa Sky-Byte taught me. I asked him to. I wanted to be able to talk to you when you came back!”   
  
Pipes laughed, and smiled at him. “This day just keeps getting better.”   
  
“I’ll say!” Jazz crowed, “So-- What’s next for you?”   
  
Before Pipes could even put any thought into it, Riptide bobbed up and down excitedly, drawing their attention. He looked very pleased with himself.

  
“We should get sushi!” he said   
  
The engineer looked at him with stark adoration, swallowed around the sudden knot of emotion in his throat, and nodded.   
  
“Sushi sounds great.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (poses in the doorway)
> 
> So, here we are again. I'd like to take a moment to say what I always do; thank you so much for reading, for all your lovely comments. If you enjoyed this fic, I'm happy. If you didn't, please feel free to drop me a comment with ideas of what i could do to better myself for my next story.
> 
> Obligatorily I have to promote myself-- please check out my other fics. If you want to talk, [you can find me on twitter here,](http://twitter.com/moosekababs/) or you can add me on discord (Ren#2640). You can also find me on tumblr [here.](http://robot-sin-disk-eyes.tumblr.com/) I'm not super active on tumblr but if you follow me on twitter you'll get sneak peeks of upcoming fics. My next fic is currently scheduled to be a 38 chapter KO/BD fic (which im on the fourth chapter of rn), so keep your eyes open :3c
> 
> Thank you again for reading!! See you next time!!

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Mermay! Thank you for reading!


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